Fall of the Phoenix
by don't disturb the dreamer
Summary: Your soul mate abandoned you. Left you, a sorry human, for the beautiful world of vampires. And never came back. Your broken heart picked up and shattered into smaller pieces by a friend who also abandoned you. What do you do? Whatever the hell you want..


"Excellent!" I murmured under my breath, as the bids on eBay closed for a great pair of tickets to a stunt show that I was just _dying_ to go to. No pun intended. The winner was, of course, _me._ I casually got up from the desk and walked down the stairs to the living room where Alice sat with Rosalie, looking over some girly magazine in some foreign language. "Rosie, baby!" I began smoothly, but she interrupted without looking up from her magazine. Alice snickered.

"What do you want, Emmett?" My wife asked, rolling her eyes. I got down on my knees in front of her and took her beautiful hands in mine.

"Rosalie, will you go to a motorcycle stunt show with me? Please, please,_ please_?" I begged. "I took Jasper last time when we went to that monster truck rally, and Edward doesn't do anything since he— since Forks." I finished lamely. It was the truth. All he did now was sit around moping. Rosalie sighed and stroked my hands.

"Sorry, Em. I promised Irina that I would help her shop for something to wear on her date with Laurent." She apologized. I sighed and began to walk out of the room. All of a sudden, Alice spoke.

"I'll go with you, Emmett." She offered. I barely noticed her anymore; she hadn't been her usual chirpy self since we left Forks eighteen years ago, no one had. "Is this the guy that no one knows anything about?" Alice asked me. I nodded excitedly. She continued, trying to think of the name of the mysterious athlete. "Black something…" I nodded again.

"Black Phoenix," I told her "His shows are supposed to be really cool, with music and lights and smoke and other stuff!" A thought struck me suddenly. "Alice! We should try to find out who he is!" She sighed and rolled her eyes exaggeratedly. I prepared myself to get on my knees to beg again, she must have seen because she laughed half heartedly and asked me when the show was.

"Three days!" I practically yelled. Alice gaped at me, and dragged Rosalie to the garage.

"What do I even _wear_ to something like that!?" She cried and I heard my wife's rippling laughter as they pulled out of the driveway in Rosalie's new red BMW. I chuckled and walked upstairs. Jasper was up in his room correcting all the Wikipedia documents about the civil war. Carlisle and Esme were out hunting. We had moved here to Alaska near the place where the Denali coven lived. It was out in the middle of nowhere and we have not had to move since we left Washington. At first Edward had run off to South America saying something about finishing what he left off, leaving all of us stumped, including Alice. After five long years, he came back to us. He stopped only to make eye contact with Carlisle and Esme, and then Edward hid in his room. He leaves about once a month to hunt, but never stays out long and never speaks anymore. Just thinking about it pisses me off. It was definitely a selfish thing to do. Just because Jazz took one little snap at her doesn't mean you pick up and leave. She knew what she was getting into when she got close to a house full of freaking _vampires_.

In my cloud of rage, I walked through the doorway to the room Rose and I shared. I grabbed the first thing I came close to and hurled it against the wall. It happened to be a small picture frame I had thrown in so hard that the metal edge had embedded itself in the wall and all the glass had fallen out in tiny specks. The picture floated gently to the floor. I turned to pick it up, and knew what picture it was. Alice had gone crazy with her digital camera after the three of them had gotten back from Italy, and this one was a particular favorite of mine. I had picked Bella up to hug her, and swung her around. The picture had caught us mid-spin and Bella's face was so happy right next to mine. Her little arms used all of her weak little human strength to hug me in return. Her fingers barely touched behind my back. I could have passed as her biological brother, we looked pretty similar.

I drew in a ragged breath and tucked to picture into my wallet. I put it on top of my dresser and ran down the stairs. I ditched my cell phone, and it might have broken as I dropped it on the floor. I ran and kept running. The Alaskan tundra flew behind me as I kept running north. I stopped after about ten minutes of running at top speed. The northern sun hit my skin and glanced off, sparkling like the snow around me. I sat down in a snowdrift and just laid there. I don't know how long it was, but Alice eventually showed up. She didn't say a word, just sat down beside me and patted my arm. I hugged her, grieving for leaving our sister behind.

­­­­­­

Three days later, Alice and I were waiting outside the sports arena in Juneau. It was usually used for hockey, I'd been here once or twice for a game.­­ Alice stood behind me in line. She was wearing a yellow t shirt with a black phoenix on it, with black jeans and black and white high tops. I was practically in shock, because she usually only dresses like this when we are hunting. The only person who dressed like this daily was Bella. It was refreshing to see normal clothes once in a while, but it was also a painful reminder of what we'd left behind. I was practically jumping up and down with anticipation, but Alice yanked my shirt down. Her tiny white hand looked like snow on my black t shirt. She shook her head and laughed. Then the line started moving we got through the gates and into our seats. We were there before most of the people in our row, which, not to brag or anything, was the very first one. We usually get front row or balcony seats wherever we go, because Alice really can't stand to be behind taller people. Don't ask how we know that, or what the consequences of that night were. That was a real bucket of laughs.

The close proximity of all these humans was just starting to get to me, when all of a sudden, the lights went out. The darkness wasn't a problem for me and Alice, but a few muffled screams were heard, and I chuckled as a guitar began playing. I was not familiar with the song, but Alice knew it, and sang the lyrics softly along with the band. A spotlight shone onto a platform in the center of the arena, where fog billowed around the surprisingly small figure of Black Phoenix. The guy was dressed from head to toe in black leather, with a black helmet. The visor was tinted darker than the helmet itself, but what caught my attention was the motorcycle. It was amazing, I didn't know what make it was, but I definitely wanted one. The guitar playing turned more fierce and a strobe light flashed on and off as Black Phoenix swiftly got on the motorcycle and rode down a ramp that was invisible to everyone but Alice and I through the fog. He did flips, twists, and all other sorts of awesome stunts. He only faltered once, but quickly recovered. The tricks got more and more intense as the show progressed. After about four songs, the show was over and Black Phoenix rode his motorcycle straight out of the arena. The lights turned back on, and everyone around us got up and left.

"That show was _awesome_." I said to Alice, nudging her with my elbow. She smiled absently and nodded.

"Yep. It sure was." She replied unenthusiastically. "Were you listening to the music?" Alice asked me abruptly.

"Yeah…" I said, confused as to what she meant. I had recognized songs from Thrice, Breaking Benjamin, and Three Days Grace, plus that first song that I didn't know.

"Every single one was angry at someone, or themselves." Alice told me.

"Huh. You're right." I thought for a moment. "Does this mean you know who Black Phoenix is?" I asked excitedly. Maybe if she had one of her visions…My thoughts were interrupted.

"I already tried to see who he is. I can't seem to get a solid image of anything except this giant field of _black _roses, and that could be anywhere in the world. Everything else either flickers around too fast for me to see, or is just a blurry mess." Alice said.

"I don't know, Alice. Black roses? That has to be pretty unique." I argued, and she nodded. I turned to go, and waited for Alice to walk up the stairs in front of me. Unfortunately, we had to move at a human pace because there were a few security cameras. We moved through the hallways and climbed back into my new Jeep. When we got home, Jasper and Rose greeted us lightly from the living room. Alice spoke suddenly.

"Let's go hunting." She said, and I agreed quickly. Being exposed to so many humans at the same time really took a chunk out of your self control. None of us had gone to school since Forks and no one except Carlisle really saw humans every day. Maybe Alice or Rosalie with all their shopping excursions. We all went to the garage and climbed into the old Jeep. It had become our hunting car. Alice hopped up into the drivers seat, and gunned out of the garage before the door was all the way up. We cleared with less than half an inch to spare. Alice drove south at well over one hundred miles per hour, and did not stop when we got to the reserve where we usually hunted. None of us cared. We trusted Alice, and all of us were pretty tired of moose and elk. Alice did not stop, or even slow down as she drove through a small part of Canada, and crossed the border into Washington. I guessed where we were going, and Alice's emotions must have been going haywire because Jasper was almost cringing in the front passenger seat. He put a hand on his wife's shoulder, and she let out a small sob. Rosalie was impassive, I think she guessed where we were headed as well. Alice careened to a stop outside a small iron fence off the road. She ran through the woods and we all waited as she ran through the whole town. The one time we saw her, her eyes were frantic and sad. None of us knew what she had seen, but we followed her over the fence and stopped behind her as we found ourselves in the Forks cemetery.

Had a horrible sinking feeling as Alice read every headstone looking for someone. She stopped in front of a small black marble headstone and Jasper walked up behind her to comfort her. It was Charlie Swan's grave. He had died not too long ago. I didn't know the guy, but Alice told us all he was like another dad when she had to take care of Bella. Rosalie drifted away from us and fell to her knees at the base of a life-sized marble angel. I ran to her, and was followed by Jasper and Alice. I picked Rosalie up, and held her close to me. I did not know what the plaque at the angel's feet said, but I had a feeling I didn't really want to. Alice and Jasper sobbed into one another, and I just held Rosalie while she wept without shedding a tear. I was just too shell shocked to cry. I turned my head, and read the words engraved in silver at the bottom of the statue. "Here lies Bella Swan. May she finally be at peace, for she brought peace to all of us." The words were simple, but they were just what Bella would have wanted. No, never mind. Bella really wanted to be with us for all eternity, but my pig headed brother told us it would be better to leave her to live out a human life. I was startled when Jasper read the date off the plaque.

"November 15th, that is only a month after we left." Jasper said. His voice held almost no emotion, and we all knew that he blamed himself. Alice said nothing, and headed back to the car, crying even harder. If there was ever a time I wished we could _really_ cry, it was now. Rosalie clung to me, and I looked up at the angel. The marble was incredibly detailed, every feather in the angel's wings was etched delicately, the angel's face was almost an exact replica of Bella's. I picked Rose up and ran to the car under the unseeing gaze of that heart shaped face, and the eyes that held so much love and kindness even on a statue. The only person who ever really came close to Esme's kind and loving nature was Bella. She was so self sacrificing, and loved with her whole heart. Seeing the face of my almost sister on a cold, dead slab of marble was too much for me to bear.

* * *

After the show, I rode out of the arena, not stopping at all, only knowing my destination, my safe haven.

I had messed up. I _never _mess up. Not since Forks. I was in the middle of a complex back flip when, there in the first row sat two people I thought I would never see again. I tightened my grip on the handlebars and the bike wobbled. At twenty feet in the air, if I fell I could probably just get up and walk away, but not in front of a crowd of humans. I recovered, and landed. The rest of the show, I had thrown myself recklessly into tricks that could be deadly for humans if miscalculated.

I sped along in the dark, not needing headlights. I could see and hear better than anything out there, and I had better reflexes.

I swerved along the forest path, and turned swiftly onto the asphalt driveway that led to my house. I had lived here since I left Forks, and in the forest far north of Juneau no one ever crossed my path. I bought an old abandoned Victorian style house with the money that would've been my college fund, and fixed it up. I realized that I was almost immune to the scent of human blood, but I did not want to risk exposure by going to school so soon after my…death.

I ran through my house, to the room where I kept my clothes. I changed into a pair of jeans and a t shirt, ones that I had kept from my home in Forks. They were my only other clothes other than my motorcycle gear. I just had no desire to be in public except to ride. I ran outside where my garden awaited. I found solace in growing living things, as a change from my dull and lifeless existence­­­­­—literally. It was what I had done for the past seventeen years when I was not hunting or riding my motorcycle. An old friend had helped me long ago by rebuilding bikes with me. I still had my old Harley Sprint. It had indentations from my fingers on the handles, where I had forgotten my new strength.

I closed my eyes and ran, following the scent of my particular breed of roses. I had so many flowers, but roses were my favorite. They grew over the wrought iron fences surrounding my house along with the ivy, twirling and draping themselves over the metal until they formed a solid hedge of leaves, thorns, and blossoms. I grew different types of trees, all kinds of flowers, and roses. I had an entire section of the garden dedicated to the black blooms I had created all on my own. I guess it helped that I had a talent, you could say, with nature. I sighed as a thin willow branch caressed my face. I collapsed under it's windblown vines, and they intertwined to shield me from view. As if anyone would_ try_ to look for me. I felt complete sadness and abandonment. Almost as much as that rainy September day. I sobbed, and the clouds darkened above me, raindrops cascaded down as if they were the tears I wished to cry for eighteen years. A solitary drop fell on my cheek, lingering there like a tear.

* * *

**There. Chapter One. On the road to recovery, no? Hahaha! Review please. Constructive criticism, etc. tell me what you thought.**


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